Is This How It Ends?
by lostcowgirl
Summary: Young Marshal Matt Dillon knew his life could end at any moment. What he didn't expect was that it would be at the end of a noose under a different name after his murder trial in Quinton near the Republican River.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Convicted**

"Don't I get a last meal?"

"Nah, we don't believe in coddling condemned men in this town, my town. It's bad enough you tried to kill my son Jasper and chased him all the way from Dodge City just 'cause he saw you murder my hand Kyle Watkins. He was well liked in these parts. Here in Cheyenne County folks avenge the death of folks like him and Jasper. You're lucky they only roughed you up some, but they felt you should be left to the law as it's carried out in Quinton. Part of that law is keepin' a prisoner chained in his cell even after he's sentenced to hang. If doin' that is painful, so much the better. We sure don't give him a fine meal."

His speech ended, sheriff and judge and biggest rancher in the county, Holden Quinton, turned on his heel and walked away from the cell. Once the door closed behind the retreating back of the man responsible for his predicament, the prisoner was left in near darkness. There was a slit high on one wall that emitted a faint amount of light, a bit brighter for the short time, or so it seemed to the man confined within, the sun shone directly through the opening. Now, with his hands cuffed behind him in such a way that the manacles pulled on both shoulders, but particularly on his already dislocated right shoulder, and his legs shackled to the narrow, bare cot restricting him to a seated position on it, he had no way to see out. The condemned man tried to block out the general discomfort that had become agonizing pain in his right shoulder but his surroundings left him little to focus on except all that he was leaving behind and the irony of the end he faced.

Prior to his conviction, from the time he first awakened in the cell, the prisoner was able to move about within the small confines of the six by four barred room. Back then the leg irons merely ensured a shuffling gate and he could eat and drink what little they allowed him after a fashion with his hands cuffed in front of him. When he stood and faced that slot on the wall behind the cot, the large man was more than tall enough to see out it, but all he saw was a bit of nothing. There was no way he could stand behind the cot and even his six-foot seven-inch height was too short for him to see more out of it while kneeling on that excuse for a bed. He'd tried to hop up on it so he could stand by the so-called window, but the irons and lack of anything to grab hold of prevented him from jumping high enough or, if he did, balancing enough to not fall back off it. His attempts had only aggravated his injuries and probably given him a few new bumps and bruises, especially at the back of his head.

The trial had ended not an hour ago and had lasted barely that long. It was the only time the prisoner had seen anything of the world outside his cell since he'd first come to he couldn't say how many days ago. Jasper Quinton had given his testimony, but the only truth in it was what had occurred at the Long Branch and that was only partially true. He'd shot at Jasper, but Quinton had been the one caught out, not him. Judge Quinton did give him an opportunity to state his version of events back home in Ford County, but neither judge nor jury believed any of it. To them he was a killer and a spoiler, a drifter by the name of Harley Fitznoble, not who he really was – US Marshal, Matt Dillon. The jury took less than five minutes to convict him. Now he sat in his cell listening to the sounds of the gallows being built on which they'd hang him tomorrow at noon when the most people would be available to watch.


	2. Chapter 2 - A Not So Quiet Night

**Chapter 2 – A Not So Quiet Night**

In the two months since the Gunter brothers had robbed the bank and taken Kitty Russell hostage, Dodge City had been relatively quiet. That would change when the Texas herds arrived, but in April, the bulk of them were still two months away. Taking advantage of the quiet, US Marshal Matt Dillon split the early rounds with his assistant Chester Goode so they could be finished quickly, giving the big lawman time to take the redheaded half owner of the Long Branch Saloon for a leisurely supper at Delmonico's. If things went as he planned, his final rounds would wind up at her place of business, but not at the bar. His evening with Kitty Russell would end just before dawn with him waking up in her room.

While he tied his best string tie and donned what she jokingly referred to as his courting coat, Matt thought about how close he'd come to losing her. Jed Gunter could easily have shot her, just as he'd threatened, with the very gun the robber had taken from him that morning in the bank. Instead, he'd killed both brothers and she, after a complete fast of more than 24 hours that was not of her choosing, fainted in his arms. He smiled to himself thinking of how they'd made use of that cabin after he sent Chester back to town with the bodies of the two outlaws tied to their horses and getting some restorative food and drink into Kitty. This morning they'd actually managed to eat breakfast and ride out on the prairie together unlike the morning of the robbery.

As discreet as they tried to be, it was easy for them to forget they weren't the only two people in town when the circumstances were right. That had been true this morning. How he loved that riding habit of hers! The rare chance to be alone led to his formally asking her to supper while allowing him to momentarily ignore everything but her. Thus, he failed to notice the tell tale signs of a not so distant herd of cattle with the accompanying drovers.

The herd had come in from the north and slightly northwest past Jake Worth's vast ranch and arrived in town at the stockyards by the railroad depot while Matt and Kitty were still cutting into their meal of steak with all the trimmings. The riders bringing the herd in were all tough men, hardened by the constant threat of attack from the Cheyenne and Arapaho. The area around the Republican River was in the middle of Indian Territory and a far piece, more than 75 miles, from Fort Wallace. That remote fort, south of where the cattle they were bringing to Dodge had grazed until the snows melted, was the closest protection for the men and few women living there. They were fiercely independent and took what they wanted when they wanted or they'd die.

None were tougher than Jasper Quinton and his friend Kyle Watkins. Their parents had come into what was to become Cheyenne County with a wagon train 25 years ago in 1845 with 50 head of cattle, which became the cornerstone of a now vaster herd, part of which, they were selling in the booming cattle town. Jasper was five when the land he called home was settled, while Kyle was born within a year of the first sod hut. Both young men were the only members of their generation to survive the harsh environment they grew to manhood in. Jasper in particular took after his widower father and heeded his father's dictums when it came to women. Ladies, like his mother Lauren, were of strong stock and could withstand the rigors of the frontier and still be subservient to their men. They were resourceful when they had to be but never forgot their place. When you found one like his mother, you asked her father's or other guardian's permission to court her and married her sooner rather than later so you could start building your family. A man used the loose women Holden Quinton had banned from his town and was justified in whatever action he took against them if they failed to satisfy him completely.

That morning, when he rode ahead with Kyle to scope out the town and secure places for his father's cattle and the men who accompanied him on the trail, Jasper noticed the woman riding out with the tall man. He remembered his mother riding sidesaddle in similar attire. Here was a lady whom he planned to court even if she were already married to the imposing man he'd seen her with. She was still with the same man, but was now dressed for a not quite formal supper, her striking red hair visible beneath her hat. He and Kyle took a table in the restaurant close enough to the couple where he could watch her yet far enough away that neither she nor her companion would notice him observing her. Jasper watched until the man escorted her out into the street and then turned his attention entirely to his meal.

Their meal over, it was Kyle's turn to notice a girl. She was no more than 18 and was nearing a saloon called the Long Branch. The dark-haired girl in her revealing dress never quite reached the batwing doors of the establishment. Kyle was quick and caught up with her before she could enter. He placed his arm around her waist and began steering her toward another drinking establishment he'd spotted in hopes of finding some female entertainment for the night. If he brought her to the Lady Gay her employer wouldn't want a cut and couldn't restrict his preferences based on price. He might even share her with Jasper if he were of a mind.

Jasper was at the door of the Lady Gay waiting for Kyle to bring the girl over. He stood in the shadows against the wall thinking he'd pick a pretty girl from those inside to satisfy his needs, although if he didn't, a threesome with the one his best friend chose would do and provide a new experience.

"I can't go anywhere other than the Long Branch with you. If you want to buy me a drink, you'll have to walk with me inside there," she said as she tried to pull away from him.

"I'll buy me a drink, but I was thinkin' I'd skip buying you one. I reckoned we'd just head to one of the upstairs rooms as soon as I got mine. It would give my friend a chance to choose as well," he replied, leading her forcefully across Front Street.

"Look, I told you. My shift at the Long Branch is starting. That's where you can buy me a drink or not. I've no intention of doing anything else with you."

In answer he held her tighter and forced her to follow him toward the Lady Gay. Her answer was to begin to scream just as Matt Dillon came upon the scene in the middle of the street. Kyle reacted to Matt's order by shoving the girl away, pushing her into the dusty street and going for his gun. Matt's shot was true. Kyle Watkins was dead. Doc soon joined him and while the town physician made arrangements for the dead cowboy, he escorted the shaken girl to the Long Branch, leaving her in the capable hands of co-owner Bill Pence before continuing with the last of his rounds.

Meanwhile, Jasper Quinton casually strolled up to Doctor Adams to identify the deceased as his friend. He helped to carry him to the undertaker's establishment while assuring the doctor that once the funeral arrangements were made, he'd seek out the marshal and inform him of the dead man's identity. Jasper made arrangements to take Kyle's coffin in the chuck wagon on their way back home so he could be buried with family nearby and then sauntered over to the Long Branch. He looked over the doors and saw the black-haired whore who was as much responsible for his friend's death as that overgrown lawman who shot him. He entered with every intention of giving her what she deserved and enjoying what her body had to offer as well.

Jasper crept up behind her, put an arm around her so that her mouth was covered and jerked the chair out from under the black-haired girl with his other hand as he lifted her to her feet and toward the nearby door. It was perfect. They were in the alley. He could do what he wanted and nobody would bother him. If she managed a scream, so what! She was only a whore and beating her to death after he had his way with her was perfectly acceptable from his point of view.

Kitty had been in the office working on the books when she thought she heard something in the alley by the back door, but shrugged it off as just a couple of drunken cowboys enjoying what their pay could buy. She finished her task and came back out front to scan the crowd before talking to her partner Bill Pence about how things were going with the drovers from this early outfit. She failed to see her latest hire, black-haired and just barely old enough, to her way of thinking, Tracy Keller. The girl had proven to be very reliable and her good looks and outgoing personality charmed the regular customers into buying more drinks and incidentally providing the girl with large tips. Tracy wasn't one to take a customer upstairs for something extra and the owners of the Long Branch had no intention of forcing her. It wasn't their policy. Therefore, Kitty was surprised when she didn't see the young woman in the barroom. She walked over to the bar where her partner was pouring drinks.

"Bill, did Tracy come in while I was working on the books? Do you know where she is?"

"The marshal brought her in right after that shooting by the Lady Gay. I think she was involved in it somehow. Didn't he tell you about it?"

"I was upstairs when it happened changing for work. I heard the shots but turned away from my window and went back to dressing once I saw Matt was still standing. I haven't seen him since supper. Did you send her home? I didn't look for her when I came down. I went straight to the office."

"No, I didn't. She seemed to be relaxing with some of the regulars. I thought I saw her out of the corner of my eye go through the back door with a stranger about ten minutes ago."

Kitty, seeing a bit of herself in the young woman from when she too, and not that long ago, was just a working girl, not a partner, thought it strange Tracy hadn't returned. She walked out that same door into the alley.

Quinton looked up at the sound of feminine footsteps. He was shocked to see the red-haired beauty he'd admired on the arm of the tall lawman exiting the saloon and dressed as if she too worked there. He sure wouldn't be taking her home as a bride, but he didn't mind starting in on her for pleasure. This time he'd start with a beating instead of rape to soften her up and punish her for pretending to be a lady. Then he'd show her how what he thought of lying whores.

The rancher's son was so engrossed in the lesson he was teaching that he almost didn't hear the sound of the back door opening. He stopped pummeling Kitty, who was now on the ground, as the door shut again and ran from the scene. Matt Dillon, the man who'd come through the door to bring her back inside, took a shot at the fleeing man as he ran to her side, barely registering the fact that an even younger woman was also lying on the ground. Kitty was who was important. Once he got her to Doc, he'd worry about catching up with the man he was sure he'd winged.

Matt holstered his six-gun and knelt down to pick up Kitty's limp body. He carried her back into the saloon and up the stairs to her room, using his key to enter, while barking orders to the patrons to get Doc and see what could be done for the girl in the alley. He was so focused on Kitty he hadn't noticed who she was or how badly she was hurt.


	3. Chapter 3 - On the Trail of a Killer

**Chapter 3 – On the Trail of a Killer**

Matt focused on getting Kitty to her bed now that he was in her room. He was so intent on getting her as comfortable as possible he failed to notice she'd been awake the whole time he carried her. Therefore, it came as a complete surprise that she spoke.

"Cowboy, I'm sure glad you came by when you did. Did you get him?"

"I think I may have winged him as he ran from the alley, but getting you to safely into bed where Doc can treat you is more important than chasing after him. I'll find him after I'm sure you're ok."

Just as Matt finished his last sentence Doc entered the room and moved directly to the bed to see to the young woman he'd come to look upon as a daughter. It didn't seem possible, but somehow the small man managed to push the much younger and larger marshal away from the bedside so he could determine the extent of his patient's injuries, leaving the young man with nothing to do but twist his hat in his hands until the good doctor was ready to tell them something.

"Young lady, you were lucky this time that overgrown public servant of yours came by when he did. There are no broken bones that I can see or internal injuries; just bruises over your entire body. Some of them are quite severe. He meant to incapacitate you so he could violate and shame you."

"I know it, Curly, but why aren't you in your office helping Tracy? That beast beat her and from what I could see he brutally violated her before I even got out there to help. Her dress was practically torn off of her."

"There was nothing I could do for her. She was already dead."

"Oh, Matt!" she gasped as the reality of the situation dawned on her. Please don't leave me tonight. He might come back here to finish what he started. I know it's silly of me, but I need you to hold me."

"Maybe you'd better, Mr. Marshal. I don't want anything more happening to our girl. Honey, I'm sorry you saw what he did to that poor girl. As for you, Matt, tomorrow will be soon enough for you to go after that animal if you care as much as I know you do about Kitty."

From what Doc told them about Quinton arranging for the coffin for his friend, Kyle Watkins, whom Matt had killed when Watkins shoved Tracy Keller aside and drew on him, his own glimpse of the fleeing man and Kitty's description, the lawman now knew who he was after and where Jasper Quinton was headed. Kitty needed tonight him tonight and he didn't plan on disappointing her, not after what Quinton had nearly done to her. Tomorrow would be soon enough to go out after the rancher's son even if it meant he had to ride all the way to Cheyenne County.

While Kitty was still quite sore, she felt much better in the morning. She even allowed Matt to convince her that Quinton was long-gone and Chester, Doc and her partner Bill Pence, would be sufficient protection if he doubled back before Matt caught up with him. Accordingly, he prepared for what could be a very long trip to the extreme northwest corner of the state. When it was time to leave Chester wanted to accompany him, but he convinced his assistant he'd be more useful keeping watch over the town and Kitty in particular.

"You get him, Matt," she said as he stopped long enough to say good-bye. "Oh and Cowboy, be careful."

The marshal had gotten off to a later start than he intended, but by mid-morning, when he finally left, he'd assured himself that Kitty hadn't suffered any serious injury and would be safe until he brought Quinton back for trial. From what he'd learned, the man had enough of an ego that he wouldn't think he might be in trouble with the law even if he blatantly broke it. Enough of his and his father's hired hands had remained in Dodge to let Matt get a feel for the man as well as confirm the description both Doc and Kitty gave of him.

The trail was a relatively easy one to follow. The wheels of the chuck wagon carrying the remains of Kyle Watkins made deep ruts in the prairie grass. By evening, despite the relatively slow pace he'd set, Matt had caught up with the three men who remained with the wagon. They informed him that Quinton and his close cronies had ridden ahead so they could inform Holden Quinton and his foreman and closest friend Drew Watkins of Kyle's death and wouldn't go anywhere but straight home.

The cowboys who remained with the wagon were friendly enough so Matt decided he could spend the night in their camp. It didn't seem to affect them that the lawman was after their boss' son for raping and beating a woman to death. He'd leave them and their cargo in the morning. Now that he knew where he was going, he didn't worry about making up ground.

The days and nights merged into each other. About the only troublesome event was sign of Indian unrest, but Matt kept away from their trails and the Calvary patrols that were trying to catch them. That is, except once. He spotted three cowboys trying to hang a brave. He rode up to them, his rifle cocked and ready in case the men gave him any trouble.

"Why are you hanging this man? If you have any proof against him, you should hand him over to one of the army patrols."

"There ain't no man here; jist a mangy redskin. Thought we'd save the army the trouble of dealin' with this buck. We sure don't need no proof 'ceptin' he's a Cheyenne."

The man holding the Indian's horse's answer to his inquiry about the reasons for the hanging convinced Matt this was nothing but a lynching. He fired his rifle severing the rope above the brave's head and quickly lowered it to point at the three men, holding them there long enough to find out whom they worked for. It was Holden Quinton. Knowing that, Matt wasted no time forcing the three to leave.

"I am Blue Horse, a chief among my people," the man he rescued told him. "All I wish is to live my life for the good of my people. You, friend, have allowed me to continue to do that."

Matt said who he was and why he was traveling through Cheyenne country. From then on, he had an escort on his travels and didn't need to detour to avoid running into members of the tribe. By staying in Blue Horse's camp he was even able to stretch his rations and sleep more soundly. A week after he began his journey he rode into Quinton only half a day behind Jasper and his friends. His first stop was the livery to give his buckskin a much-needed rest. A boy of about eight pointed him toward that building, which wasn't hard to find in the tiny town.

Matt was so tired from the grind of the trail, despite the aid of Blue Horse, that he let his guard down enough to fail to notice the stableman was expecting him, as was the hotel clerk. A stall was already prepared and he was handed his room key even before he signed the register. After a short rest, the big lawman returned to the desk to find out where to eat and where the restaurant was in relation to the sheriff's office, if a town this size even had one. The clerk was only too glad to inform him that they indeed had such an elected official, whose office was most easily reached by using the back door of the hotel, which also happened to be the back door of the restaurant.


	4. Chapter 4 - A Dire Premonition

**Chapter 4 – A Dire Premonition**

The morning after Matt left Kitty awoke with a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't put her finger on the exact cause, but she was certain the solution was to follow after her man into the open prairie. She knew he could take care of himself, but since she couldn't shake the feeling, she decided to tell Doc and Chester about it over breakfast.

While Doc protested that it was too dangerous for her to go all that way across the prairie to the Republican River even if she hadn't suffered a beating at the hands of Jasper Quinton, Chester decided if she were determined to go, he'd accompany her. As the three friends exited Delmonico's still arguing over Kitty's plan to follow after Matt, Jake Worth rode up with three of his men.

"Is Matt in his office?" he asked them. "There's been a murder out at my ranch; actually two murders and some stock rustled."

"Mr. Dillon ain't here, Mr. Worth. He's gone after Jasper Quinton for murderin' one o' Miss Kitty's girls 'n' beatin' up on Miss Kitty."

"He needs to know the man he's chasing is the same one I'm complaining about. Matt can't deal with him alone. His father controls everything up that way, but he might listen to me. We go back a long way to when all of Kansas was open prairie. I'll take some of my riders and follow Matt to Quinton country to help him out."

"Doc, there goes your objections. I'll be safe riding with Jake and his men."

Chester insisted on going with Jake's posse as well but needed to find someone to look after the town while they were gone. Jake agreed that one of the men with him could stay behind to look after things in Dodge while he, his other two men, Chester and Kitty rode back to his ranch to collect more men and then follow the marshal's trail.

On the way back to the Worth spread Kitty and Chester learned what happened from Les Durham, one of the men who rode in with Jake. The young cowboy had seen Quinton shoot his pal Dale Worther for protesting against the attempt Quinton, Watkins and Harley Fitznoble made to cull out some of Jake's finest stock in exchange for the beefs Quinton and his men delivered. Fitznoble, who had joined the drive near Oakley, decided he didn't cotton to murder, so Jasper turned his gun on him as well and rode off with 20 head of Jake's cattle before young Les could get off a shot.

By midday 20 men and one woman, dressed for the trail, were riding toward Cheyenne County and the Republican River from the northwest edge of Jake Worth's land. As she rode along, Kitty couldn't shake the feeling that if they didn't hurry it would be too late for Matt. She knew the reason and certainly had no desire to be cruel to the horses, but it still worried her that by stopping to rest them and their riders she was increasing the chance she wouldn't get to him while he was still alive.

Three days later the riders caught up with the three men escorting the wagon with Kyle Watkins remains. Matt Dillon, who'd passed by the same wagon five days earlier, was still well ahead of them. At Kitty's urging, the party led by Jake Worth left the wagon and its escort behind. They still had three more days of hard riding before they reached the town of Quinton.

Halfway through the remaining distance, Jake called a halt. There was a party of Indians in front of them and when they looked more closely, they realized they were surrounded. Suddenly, two riders broke off from the rest of those in front and headed toward them. Jake, Chester and Les were prepared to shoot until Jake halted them when he realized it was a white man and a squaw riding towards them, not warriors. He let them approach.

"Hello there, I'm Frank Reardon the new sheriff over in Hays. I've been visiting with Maria's folks before taking on my new duties. Her pa's the medicine chief. Anyhow, the chief of this clan agreed that I could find out who you are before they attacked. Are you with Quinton? If you ain't, did you ever hear of Matt Dillon?"

Chester started to speak, but Kitty, who was just behind him, spurred her horse forward as soon as she heard Matt's name. She pulled up directly in front of Frank and Maria.

"I'm Kitty Russell. Let's just say I'm a very special friend of Matt. If you're really Frank Reardon, you'll tell me the truth about where he is. He claims you're his best friend. Is he in trouble?"

"Matt's not one to write and neither am I, miss, but I sure won't lie about what I know of him. I reckon he's reached Quinton's town by now and stated his purpose. Chief Blue Horse escorted him to within a half-day's ride of there, two days ago. I doubt Holden Quinton will take kindly to Matt wanting to arrest his son Jasper for murder. I'd say he's in for a spot of trouble."

Frank, now that he knew their loyalties or the redhead Matt had told him about the last time they saw each other was with them, invited the entire group led by Jake Worth to join the small hunting party traveling with their families that was escorting Frank and Maria toward Hays. While Kitty became acquainted with Maria, Frank briefed Chester, Jake and his riders on just what they should expect when they reached Quinton.

Frank and Matt had first met as young deputies in Arizona. They later served in the war together and then traveled through the various towns from Texas to the Dakotas taking jobs as deputies and sheriffs or city marshals along the way. Sometimes they met up while serving as lawmen in the same towns and so kept in touch. Frank had been working as sheriff in Fort Collins, Colorado when the chance to be sheriff in Hays came up. It was while traveling from Durango to there that he met Maria at an Indian school in Loveland and fell in love. The young Cheyenne woman daughter of Follows Soaring Eagle was pleased to meet the woman that captured the heart of Frank's brother in war, the one who kept Blue Horse from death. Even before they learned of his deed, Frank had told her of Matt Dillon of the Dodge City camp and of the redheaded woman who came to that camp and stayed for him.

Like Matt's escort, the hunting party left the small army of 20 a half-day's ride out of Quinton. They would reach the town just at noon if they didn't dawdle over breakfast.


	5. Chapter 5 - A Surprise Welcome

**Chapter 5 – A Surprise Welcome**

Matt could only think his mind had been too much on Kitty and not enough on tracking a killer to his home territory. It was the only explanation for why he walked right into the trap that had been set for him. It couldn't have been the killer was too easy to follow or he was too tired – maybe just a little for that last bit. It only proved what he'd been telling her – the badge and a relationship don't mix.

As soon as he walked out of the back gate of the hotel into the alley, he sensed danger. By then it was too late. Five men surrounded him. He defended himself as best he could, but these were experienced, dirty fighters. Their fists and booted feet soon had him at a disadvantage. Towards the end he resigned himself to his fate while they rotated their positions. Two at a time took turns holding him upright, while the remaining three pummeled him, until all of them had a chance at both. That's when they let go and he dropped to the ground so they could kick him. He wondered, as he lost consciousness, if he'd survive the beating.

He must have survived because he awoke in a dank jail cell on his back on a bare cot with his hands cuffed in front of him and from the feel of it, his legs shackled as well. That wasn't all he felt. There was the intense pain, especially in his ribs and right shoulder. Matt was sure he had more than bruises. At least his head merely throbbed and didn't pound. When he raised his hands, a mistake, he soon realized as the agony from his dislocated shoulder nearly made him pass out again, his face felt puffy and his eyes were closed halfway.

"Get up now if you want anything to eat or drink. It's on the floor by the cell door, but you'll have to stir yourself over to it and bend down to pick it up. I don't know when I'll next bring you something, but it will be at least once more before your trial. We don't believe in overfeeding or giving much water to our prisoners. From experience, we provide just enough so they don't die before their day in court. You'll want to have the strength to say something in your behalf, I warrant, but we don't want you to be stronger than that. If you were, you might give us some trouble."

Matt, his eyes, mere slits barely adjusted to the dim light, painfully brought his body upright and shuffled over to where he could barely discern a tray with a tin cup and what might possibly be a stale crust of bread. Despite the pain, he was hungry and believed the man when he said he wouldn't get much more, so he gingerly and awkwardly stooped to pick up the tray."

"No you don't. That tray stays where it is. You can pick up the bread with your teeth, but if you do that, you have to wait to get what's in the cup. It's your choice as to which comes first. Either you lap the water from the cup like the cur you are or you bite off some of the bread. Any attempt to get both or use your hands and I'll jerk the tray away from you, leaving you with only what you managed to stuff in your maw. It'll be easy. I've got the tray on a chain. You've got five minutes to get as much water and grub as you can in you before I take it all away."

Sensing he had no choice, Matt elected to lap the water from the cup first and then try to bite off some of the bread. Even so, with little water to wash it down, the stale bread was hard to get down his throat despite trying to chew it quickly yet thoroughly with his sore jaw. He was nowhere near quenching his thirst and had only managed to swallow a third of the small amount of bread when the tray was whisked away through the slot in the bottom of the cell door and a baton came down on the chain between his wrists, forcing him to defensively draw back his hands. Before he could do any more a broom handle was shoved violently into his already battered chest forcing him back toward the cot. He fell hard against it.

Between the pain, the meager rations and barely having the strength to overcome the pain enough to ingest at least a portion of those rations and also try to see out the tiny high window, Matt lost track of the time. He had no idea if he'd been in the cell three days or five when he was dragged outside and brought to his trial in the hotel where he'd briefly had a room. It was four and he'd been fed exactly twice – when he first came to the morning after his beating and five hours before the start of his trial. He was famished and nearly dehydrated but somehow he didn't think it mattered to the man in whose jail he was held.

Matt was in no condition to make any attempt at escape, but even so, the man he now knew as Holden Quinton and a second, whose name he didn't know, they hadn't removed his irons or shackles, making the short walk across the alleys from jailhouse to hotel even more difficult than his injuries alone would have done and shoved him into a chair next to a square table when they arrived at the designated room. Then, to make sure, despite his exhaustion, he couldn't move, the man he didn't know placed an additional shackle on his left leg to secure him to a ring set in the wall behind him. Next, taking positions on either side of him where he sat, the older Quinton unlocked the cuffs long enough so the two men could force him to lean forward and secure them to his wrists so his hands were behind instead of in front of him. While Quinton took his position behind the desk, transforming himself from sheriff to judge, the other man placed a second set of cuffs on first his right wrist and then that same ring wrenching his already dislocated shoulder even further and causing him to bite back an involuntary urge to scream in pain.

With the accused secured, court was in session. Matt, if he turned his head to the left could see two rows of six men each. That must be his jury, he thought. If he turned his head to the right he could see a similar chair to his that instead of facing toward the hotel room door like his, was three feet closer to that door than his and faced the jury. A third chair, between the two, was two feet closer to the door, but this one faced the middle of the desk. The man who'd put the second set of chains on him sat there until Quinton called for Dolf Watkins, the second man who brought him to his trial, to begin calling witnesses. There was only one. Watkins stood up from the middle chair and strolled toward the chair facing the jury where Jasper Quinton now sat.

"Jasper Quinton, please tell the jury just what transpired after you sold your pa's cattle to Jake Worth and at auction in the stockyards in Dodge City. We don't need to hear everything, only what's pertinent to the charge of murder against the prisoner; in short, what you told us upon arrival."

"Me and your son, Mr. Watkins, decided we deserved some enjoyment after the long drive as much as the hands we'd paid off. Kyle was all for havin' a bit of fun with some saloon fluff, I wanted to try my luck and both of us wanted to get drunk so we went lookin' for a saloon that would allow us to do it all. We caught sight of a pretty gal walkin' toward a saloon that put on fancy airs called the Long Branch like it was something more than a place to gamble, get drunk and do whatever we wanted with the gals. Kyle grabbed hold of her to steer her to a place called the Lady Gay where we'd already paid a fee to use one of their upstairs rooms. Since the gal didn't work there, we wouldn't be expected to pay the management for her as well like we would for one of the Lady Gay whores. Seems the Long Branch was too hoity-toity to allow us to take one of theirs upstairs unless she was willing. The gal we had thought she had the right to object and tried to get away even though a saloon gal's got nothin' to say about what's done to her."

"What happened then, Jasper? Did Kyle get what he desired from the doxie?"

"Nah, instead that man over there who I'd noticed eatin' in the restaurant with a fine lookin' redhead where we were eatin', came runnin' toward us after the silly tart Kyle fancied to poke up in the room we had for the purpose screamed. He demanded Kyle leave her be or he was under arrest. That was plum loco 'cause takin' her up to the room in the Lady Gay weren't breakin' no laws. It was why she was tolerated at all. Kyle flung her aside and went to face the guttersnipe, but the bastard killed him before he could do nothin'. I was thinkin' of when I might get my chance to revenge Kyle as I watched from the shadows in the alley by the door of the Lady Gay, but first I wanted to get back at the whore who skedaddled off to the Long Branch while Kyle was being murdered. After I dealt with her I'd deal with the murderin' piece of slime and take his girl from him as well. A piece of filth like him didn't deserve her or so I thought at the time. She seemed real fine, the kind I'd bring home to marry, but I shudda known better considerin' the company she was keepin. She was another whore from the Long Branch. She came out of there into the alley behind while I was finishin up with Kyle's tramp and tried to stop me. I was startin' in on doin' her as was my right, when that garbage in the chair came out. Decidin' I'd best get away so's I could come back and get him when he wasn't expectin' it, I started to run. He winged me, but Harley Fitznoble didn't stop me from getting home and now he'll pay. It's better this way than simply shootin' him and watchin' him bleed to death. I'll still go back for that redhead."

"Thank you, Jasper," his father the presiding judge said. "While it's hardly necessary to hear anymore since neither Jasper Quinton nor Kyle Watkins broke any laws in dealing with the whores Dodge City allows the way they did and thus both the charge of murder and attempted murder has been proven, it's only fair to allow the accused a chance to explain the reasons for his otherwise incomprehensible actions. Do you have any questions for the prisoner, Dolf? I didn't expect you did. Alright Fitznoble, state your piece, but before you do, realize that there's no such thing as assault, rape or murder of whores in my courtroom. That holds for Quinton or anywhere else. Also, there's no point in denying you killed Kyle Watkins and wounded Jasper Quinton. There's no refuting the testimony of a reliable witness."

"Since your son is accusing me, Judge or Sheriff or whatever your title is, and the prosecutor's son is the one I killed in the line of duty, I can only hope the jury will listen to reason. First off, I don't know who Harley Fitznoble is, if he even exists. I'm Matt Dillon the US Marshal in Dodge where molesting women, no matter how they legally earn their living, is against the law as is beating them to death. It's Kansas law and it's federal law. The charges against Jasper Quinton are assault, rape and murder. Had Kyle Watkins simply let Tracy Keller go and behaved himself with her and any other girl instead of drawing on me, I wouldn't have done more than warn him. Instead I was forced to kill him when he resisted arrest. Now the coffin carrying his body is on the way here. When Quinton fled I followed him to arrest him for raping and beating Miss Keller to death and beating Kitty Russell the co-owner of the saloon where Tracy worked when she tried to stop it. I still aim to take him back to Dodge for trial or die trying."

Matt wasn't surprised when the jury found him guilty under the name he was being tried under, but he'd hoped he might have struck a nerve with the conscience of at least one of them and maybe one did protest for a time. It was actually the best he'd hoped for since he doubted the jurors were brave enough to thwart the will of the man who controlled the town. Watkins released the chains securing him to the wall but his hands remained cuffed behind him. If possible, he was even hungrier and thirstier than before and even weaker when Quinton senior and Watkins threw him into the cell and chained him to the bare cot so he could do nothing but sit while the pain in his battered body increased.

Somehow, by focusing on Kitty and the fact that he at least was in time to save her from Quinton's worst, he was able to make it through the night and, he thought, even get a few minutes of sleep. The sound of hammers and nails started up again with dawn, but now even that had stopped. The gallows must be finished. As that depressing thought entered his head, Matt heard footsteps coming toward the cell. It was Dolf Watkins with a tin of water. He entered the cell and placed the water on a stool in front of the condemned man that was maybe a foot shorter than the cot on which he sat.

"Bend your back and head so you can lap it, dog. The pain you feel trying it will do me good while I watch you. I'll be even happier if you pass out from it and get no water, even if you won't be."

Matt didn't know how he managed it, but he did get a few sips of water before the excruciating pain was mercifully halted when he lost consciousness. In only minutes or so his brain imagined, he was rudely brought awake by something foul smelling being waved under his nose. Since he stirred, it was mercifully taken away before he could discover what it was. The time for his execution had come.

The three who entered his cell, jerked him to his feet. Two, Dolf Watkins and another who had to be another Warkins son, flanked him while the third, Jasper Quinton, the killer he'd come to arrest followed close behind, poking him with a rifle as he walked. When they reached the steep ladder leading to the top of the scaffold, the three men halted, but not before shoving him forward so that he had to begin climbing. He nearly fell off as he climbed. It was difficult to keep his balance with his legs still shackled and his hands cuffed behind his back. Matt half thought it might be better to fall, but he'd probably only be injured. They'd find another way to get that noose around his neck even if he broke several bones or they shot him, probably in the knee.

When he reached the top the hangman was waiting for him. He thought of resisting the placement of the noose around his neck, but that's when they'd wound him just enough so it would be easy to do, but very painful waiting for him to drop through the trapdoor when it opened. Besides, where could he go with a hostile crowd surrounding the gallows in the town plaza? Holden Quinton chose to speak just as the noose was placed around his neck and tightened.

"Your end has come Harley Fitznoble. Time to make your peace and state any last wishes, not that they'll be carried out or not."

"I'd like word sent to Dodge to Kitty Russell. Tell her Matt Dillon was hanged and they wouldn't even allow him his own name and that what I kept telling her could happen at any moment finally has. I just never thought it wouldn't be by a gun. She can pass it on to the rest of those who care about me."

An eternity later while he thought of how right he'd been to insist that he and Kitty not marry. It would be easier this way for her to find someone else now that the fear they shared had come to pass. The next thing he knew the bottom dropped out from under him, leaving him with the brief thought, is this how it ends, before everything went dark.


	6. Chapter 6 - Will the Calvary Arrive?

**Chapter 6 – Will the Calvary Arrive?**

Frank Reardon was gone when Kitty Russell awoke, as were all the Cheyenne except Maria Soaring Eagle. The original band of riders led by their boss Jake Worth and the ever-loyal Chester Goode were mounted and pointed toward Quinton, the small town on the Republican River where the man US Marshal Matt Dillon was after, Jasper Quinton, lived. Would the small party of 20 be able to rescue the dedicated lawman from the town ruled by his father, Holden Quinton? More importantly, would they be in time to attempt any rescue at all?

They rode quietly, yet steadily westward. There were a few who tried to delay them, but those were easily dissuaded with minimal exchange of gunfire. Even the friendly folks they came across warned of Indian trouble so it was a good thing Maria kept to the center of the group even though she was dressed as a White woman. Just as the sun was overhead they saw the town in front of them, such as it was.

Kitty joined Jake, Chester and Les Durham at the head of the column as they rode into town. Kitty was the first to spot the crowd in the town plaza. She knew she had to get to the center of whatever had drawn the crowd. Her heart told her Matt's life depended on it. She kicked the sides of her horse urging the mare into a full gallop, followed closely by Chester, Les and Jake. The remaining 16 riders increased their speed as well.

The crowd parted when they heard the hoof beats behind them. The saloon owner and her friends plowed through the path created by the people of Quinton and nearby Cheyenne County farms and ranches who were watching the hanging. Kitty reined her horse to a sudden halt in front of the gallows and raced up the steps. It was a good thing she was wearing a split riding skirt and not her usual attire that would have slowed her down because the trapdoor dropped out from under the tall man with the noose around his neck just as she reached him. The desperate redhead held on to him with all her strength and determination to keep him from falling all the way through, but she knew she couldn't hold him back for long.

Chester, despite his stiff leg, reached the top of the platform a split second after Kitty, adding his underestimated strength to hers while Les shoved the surprised hangman aside and put a bullet through the rope above the noose, severing it. The woman and the marshal's assistant, as gently as they could, lowered the big man's body to the floor of the platform as soon as they felt it go slack. He didn't seem to be breathing.

Meanwhile, Jake took up a position behind Holden Quinton, his pistol planted firmly in the small of the town founder's back while the rest of his men formed a cordon around the scaffolding that formed the gallows. He knew if the older Quinton gave the order his men would charge the Dodge City men and mow them down. Who knew what would happen to the now two women, since Maria had also climbed the steps, on the gallows platform then.

"Jake, what are you doing trying to save a nobody my son says goes by the name Harley Fitznoble? When we first came out here to the high plains you would have been the first to hang the bastard who murdered your best friend's son and tried to do the same to your son. I know times have changed. That's why I'm sheriff and judge and saw to it the scumbag had a trial before we carried out what he deserved."

"You're right, Holden, times have changed and Kansas has laws. It happens the man you hanged wasn't some drifter but Marshal Matt Dillon. If I could, I'd bring you to Dodge City to stand trial for murder along with your son, but I don't think it would stick. Jasper not only killed that girl Tracy Keller in front of a witness who came with me, but he also murdered one of my riders, Dale Worther, and the real Harley Fitznoble. He did it because they tried to stop him from rustling my cattle so he'd get paid twice for the number of beeves he sold me. I brought a witness to that with me as well. I could kill Jasper right now on these very gallows, but I won't out of respect for the man you had killed because you believed your son's lies."

"So, the man really was Matt Dillon like he claimed to the very end and I suppose that red-haired hussy who stormed up those steps to catch him as he dropped is the witness to what you call murder and I call dealin' with a whore and the Kitty he wanted sent a message. I reckon we're at a standoff 'cause it's your rider's word against my son's and I believe my son. He thought the man I had arrested was Fitznoble hiding behind a badge. Maybe that drifter and your man killed each other. You've got to admit it's possible."

Kitty barely registered what Quinton had said, but did catch that Matt had her on his mind in his final moments. She took some comfort in that as she sat on the platform holding his head in her lap, the tears dribbling down her cheeks. Chester sat beside her, his stiff leg stretched out in front of him, trying to hold back his own emotions while he placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. Les remained standing, his pistol aimed at the middle of the hangman's chest. He was ready if the killer's pa failed to cooperate with his boss.

Holden Quinton hadn't gained his position by giving in, especially when he had more men. His life didn't matter, his son's did. If he died protecting what was his, so be it. He nodded at Dolf Watkins and at the same time opened his mouth to give the order to shoot. It never came. Jake Worth's bullet saw to that, but Watkins did deliver the order for his best friend just as he too was shot and killed by Les from up on the platform and the Calvary arrived. They were from Fort Wallace, Fort Hays, even Fort Dodge and were out rounding up Cheyenne to deport to the reservation down in The Nations, Oklahoma Territory. Frank Reardon led the triple company of troopers to the town as soon as he and Blue Horse were able to convince the two ranking officers of the need for immediate action. All it took was for the chief to agree to tell his people to go south with the soldiers. However, Blue Horse didn't agree to how long he and his family would stay.

Despite the arrival of the army, the battle didn't end before all the Watkins and Quintons were dead and Jake had lost three men. When the firing stopped, Maria waved for Frank to join them on the platform to help bring his best friend's body to the ground for burial. As she bent to let Kitty, whose face was bent down staring at the love of her life's face, know Frank was on his way up, she leaned close to Matt's head and felt a slight breath.

"Kitty, hear me! Matt's not dead. I felt his breath! Frank will help Chester and Les carry him to a bed."

"Maria, I thought we'd become friends! I'm resigned to it; don't lie to comfort me! I need to get used to life without him."

Kitty pulled Matt's motionless body into a tight embrace and bent her face even closer to his. That's when she too felt the barely discernible wisp of air escape his lips and Frank gently lifted Matt's upper body into his own strong arms. Trying not to jostle him, Chester took up a place three quarters of the way down the steps holding his boss' feet, Les stood at the halfway point and Frank at the top holding Matt's head and shoulders as they slowly lowered his body. When Chester reached the bottom, Jake helped guide him off the steps to solid ground, doing the same for Les and Frank. Once on level ground, the three were able to carry the unconscious man horizontally down the street to the room in the one hotel in town that had briefly been Matt's when he first arrived.

Once Kitty drew the top sheet and light blanket back, Frank, Chester and Les gently placed the comatose marshal on the bed with his head resting on the pillow and his still booted feet dangling off the right side so as not to dirty the bedclothes any more than necessary. The man they'd carried there showed all the signs of what he'd been subjected to, as did his clothes. Kitty immediately began to remove those boots, which, had she noticed, were minus the usual spurs.

"Kitty, I know this is askin' a lot of you, but you know Matt needs a doctor and the nearest one's at Fort Wallace. He won't make it there unless his injuries are treated, which includes cleaning him up. I doubt his injuries can wait until their Doc travels the 75 miles after word reaches him when the patrol arrives at the fort, if he's able to come at all. There's no telegraph here."

"So far, you're not askin' anything of me that I don't already know I have to do. Frank, what are you tryin' to say? Doc has given me some training so I can at least provide the basics, even binding his ribs."

"Uh, does Matt object if your doc in Dodge sees more of you than is acceptable in polite company if it's necessary to save your life? It's just that Maria's learned to treat this kind of injury from her parents and I'm askin' you to let her do what he'd let that Doc of yours do for you. I brought as much medical supplies as I thought we might need with me and the rest can be found right here. It's his only chance to my way of thinkin' and you know his chances ain't too good right now. Besides, now that there ain't no more reason for being in Quinton, most of the army's leavin' tomorrow and they're willin' to escort you in a wagon to Fort Wallace and the doctor."

By the time Kitty let Frank know she would allow Maria do whatever she needed to help Matt, the young Cheyenne woman had gathered what she would need, including a basin of warm water and cloths for cleansing and bandaging and joined the group around the bed. The two women shooed the men out of the room so they could remove the rest of the filthy clothes from the patient. Thanks to the now cooperative hotel owner, Matt's belongings had been retrieved, along with a nightshirt that was no longer needed by its original owner, so they had something clean to dress him in once their ministrations were complete.

With effort, the two women completed their first task. Maria then examined the bruises and other injuries while Kitty used a soft cloth to wash away the accumulated grime and dried blood. His torso was covered with the evidence of the punches and kicks he'd received, including two black eyes. In addition, he had five broken ribs, one of which had to be set immediately since it protruded from his side at the break. There was also his partially dislocated left shoulder from the pull of the cuffs when he tried to eat and drink what little was provided him and his right shoulder deliberately dislocated during his first beating and rendered worse by the ill treatment that followed. Actually being hung contributed to rather than lessening his injuries.

Kitty and her new friend Maria worked together so Matt sat up while the Cheyenne woman aligned the broken ribs, particularly the one that was a compound fracture. Then she cleaned and sewed the wound the break had made shut before winding the tight bandage around his chest. That left the dislocated shoulders. They pulled on his arms to pop them securely back into their sockets before putting the nightshirt over the marshal's head. Being ever so careful with his arms, Maria then placed the right one in a sling, but decided since he wasn't going to be moving around, it would be unnecessary for the left arm. The whole procedure took two hours. Finally, they were done and could ease the man's head back onto the pillow and pull the covers up under his chin.

For the rest of the afternoon Kitty never left Matt's side. She held his hand and lifted his head every ten minutes to place a glass of water to his lips to try to rehydrate him. Maria came into the room at intervals along with Frank with fresh water and by the second hour broth for nourishment. Thanks to the abuse and starvation he'd suffered over the past five days, not to mention his sparse rations while on the trail, Matt was very weak. Even so, they convinced Chester to return to Dodge that afternoon with the unit from Fort Dodge and Jake Worth's men so he could let Doc know to expect them and he could look after the town in relief of Jake's man, like his boss had requested.

Maria, as the closest person to a doctor they had available before reaching Fort Wallace would accompany Kitty and Matt there, as would Frank. The agreement Frank had reached with the army was that Maria's parents would remain with the small party of Cheyenne led by Blue Horse first to Fort Hays and then on south past Dodge into the Nations and the reservation set aside for them with the troops from Fort Dodge. One of the troopers returning to Fort Hays would ride to Hays City to let the town leaders know their new sheriff was delayed and would arrive as soon as US Marshal Matt Dillon no longer required his assistance.


	7. Chapter 7 - Fort Wallace & On to Dodge

**Chapter 7 – To Fort Wallace and Onward to Dodge**

The sun was setting on another day as Matt Dillon became more aware of his surroundings. He remembered the floor of the gallows dropping out from under him and the noose tightening around his neck and everything going black. Perhaps, he thought, he was dead enough that he'd gone on to Heaven, but that couldn't be right, everything hurt too much. It must be Hell and he was being punished for his wild youth by the pain and weakness. If that were so, was hearing Kitty's voice urging him to live or she'd kill him part of the punishment? Would it all disappear if he opened his eyes, which he somehow sensed were closed, or would he be home with Kitty actually beside him? Steeling himself, Matt opened his eyes as far as he could and with considerable effort turned his head towards Kitty's voice as he weakly squeezed the hand that appeared to be holding his.

"Welcome back, Cowboy. I really thought I'd lost you when Chester and I caught your body before it could drop through the trapdoor on the gallows. Even then it was touch and go. If it hadn't been for the wonderful woman Frank Reardon's found for himself, Maria Soaring Eagle, we still would have been too late."

It still made no sense to him. Two people walked into the room, wherever it was, and joined Kitty. It was Frank and a Cheyenne woman, who began to poke at him and check his bandages after Kitty turned down the covers and lifted the nightshirt he was wearing. When did Kitty put that on me, he wondered. She seemed satisfied with what she found, so Kitty covered him up again. He was vaguely aware of Frank talking and the woman, who must be Maria, giving Kitty instructions about food and water and rest before they traveled in the morning.

By morning, though he was still weak, he was more fully awake. Kitty had fed him his first solid food in he didn't know how long and managed to put his spare pair of pants on him. Still, the pain would have been unbearable had Kitty not been with him. He thought Maria had told her as he was drifting off despite the pain that she was unable to distill the herbs that would ease his pain, so he'd have to wait for relief until they saw the White medicine chief at Fort Wallace. Matt had listened to the two women talk as he fell asleep despite wanting to hear more.

"From the first moment I saw you with Frank's brother in war, I knew you had given yourself completely to him. I had despaired of finding a man that my father would find acceptable while I remained at the mission school where I'd been since I was taken from my parents at the age of ten. All that changed when Frank stopped by the school on his way to Denver with a prisoner he was taking for trial. I wanted to give myself to this man if I ever saw him again with or without approval. I was never so happy when he agreed to take me to my people on his trip to Hays for his new job."

"I'd had many men in my life, too many of them forced upon me by the time I saw Matt. Like you, I wanted him if he'd have me, but unlike you with Frank, I didn't care what my absent father thought. We came to know one another and, as you saw, I'm willing to give myself to him on whatever terms he can live with. Those terms are that we keep our relationship secret as long as he wears that badge of his."

"Frank spoke with my father and I with my mother while we traveled together. Father approved of me remaining with this man, but only after he learned your man was his brother warrior and held him in high regard. We are pledged to each other and will marry when he is ready. Meanwhile, I will do for Frank as you do for Matt."

The woman was back again to change his dressings and rewrap his ribs. She completed her task while Kitty put a glass of water to his lips when Frank entered the room with two soldiers. His friend was actually here. The three men carried a litter that was covered with soft blankets, using it to bring him to a wagon.

Once Matt was secured in the wagon, Kitty climbed in after him. Frank and Maria were on the box he learned when they turned to make sure the passengers were ready. His horse was tied to the back and his gear stowed in the wagon along with whatever supplies they were bringing and Kitty, Frank and Maria's belongings. He heard the command to move forward, letting the rocking of the wagon lull him back to sleep so he could forget the pain, at least for a while.

It took until late in the afternoon of the third day to cover the 75 miles to Fort Wallace at the pace set by the wagon. During that time, with regular meals, Matt grew steadily stronger and would have become restless on the litter that was his soft bed if not for the ever-present pain. It made him wish he could take it out on the men who were the cause of it, but they were all dead, killed during his rescue. Still, he felt he could attempt to walk into the army surgeon's office on his own two feet with someone to lean on. He'd even managed to persuade Frank to help him with his boots.

The doctor checked all that Maria had done, changed the dressing on the wound from the broken rib in his side and wrapped his ribs in a tight new bandage. He also gave Matt a dose of laudanum, his first real relief from the constant pain and left instructions with Kitty and Maria as to what to do for the patient during the remainder of their trip until his own physician could examine him.

"Miss, you did a remarkable job with setting those ribs and repositioning his arms properly in his shoulder sockets. Your friend provided much more than adequate nursing assistance. I can see why the new Hays sheriff was able to negotiate you remaining with him instead of traveling with your tribe down to the reservation."

For the first time in a long time all four friends were able to sleep in real beds. For Matt, it was the best night's sleep since he'd started out on the trail of Jasper Quinton. Under the influence of a rather heavy dose of laudanum he could forget he'd ever had any pain and experience a restful, healing deep sleep. The next morning he awoke ready to begin the last leg of the journey. The doctor checked him one more time, making sure the bandage around his chest was tight enough to keep his ribs in place while allowing him to breath and pronounced he was healed enough to sit a horse. Even so, the physician was glad the Cheyenne woman would remain with the marshal, the sheriff and the marshal's lady friend.

"Are you sure you don't want an escort?" Colonel Warner asked as he walked with them toward the fort's gates. "There are still renegade bands about."

"Thank you, Colonel," Matt was able to reply for himself. "Maria here is all the escort, Frank, Kitty and I need."

Deep down Warner knew Matt was right about the Cheyenne woman, especially now that he knew of the group's attachment to Blue Horse. He reluctantly waved them on their way before turning back inside the gates and ordering them closed.

So as not to tax the still recuperating Matt, the four friends kept to a slow pace, not much more than a fast walk, with frequent stops to rest and longer ones for meals. Even so, the marshal was the first to turn in each evening and the last to rise. Thus, it was mid-morning a week after they left Fort Wallace when they finally arrived at the alley leading to Doc Adams' office. Doc stood on the landing watching Matt keep his left hand on the railing while Kitty kept a reassuring arm around his waist while the young man and woman they rode into town with walked directly behind them, one step below.

"Frank, Maria, I'm Doctor Adams. I'm real pleased to meet you. Chester told me his version of what happened; then Jake told me what really occurred. Matt, you want to tell me what led to them finding you in such a sorry state while I examine you to see how much you're hiding from your personal physician."

"Doc, if you don't mind, I'd rather you get the poking and prodding over with quickly so I can settle into a nice soft bed over at the Long Branch and I don't want to hear any objections from you. I'll tell you what happened later after I've had a few days rest."

During the next three days Chester and Doc came to know Frank Reardon and Maria Soaring Eagle almost as well as Matt and Kitty came to know them. Doc approved of the man Matt claimed as his best friend and the woman with him. For once, Matt actually took things easy over the next few days. In fact, that first day, despite Doc proclaiming him healed enough that he no longer needed to keep his right arm in a sling, Matt kept to Kitty's room, spending most of his time resting, if not sleeping, in the bed he shared with that remarkable redhead, glad she liked his best friend, who would now be relatively close by with Maria the woman he'd chosen who both he and Kitty felt was a perfect choice.


End file.
